Should Have Told The Missus
Posted on Thu May 19th, 2011 @ 8:12am by Major Maxim Kamarov
ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA
EARTH.
SIX WEEKS AGO
The cold was bracing as were most Russian winters. Children laughed and played hockey on the frozen pond in the town square while adults bustled back and forth. Couples avoided the boisterous children and skated, hand in hand. Older couples watched the children and lovers, wistful smiles on their red-cheeked faces.
A tall man dressed in Starfleet Marine green stood next to a tall woman dressed in a white lamb jacket. She looked out across the ice and sighed. "Were we so young, once, Max?" Natalya Kamarov asked her husband.
Maxim looked at the ice and watched his daughter, Nina, do a perfect pirouette. "Of course we were! But as we got older we found each other," he replied softly.
"Yerunda!"(Bullshit) Natalya replied, leaning back to let her husband see the laughter in her eyes. "The first time you saw me you called me a skinny chuchelo(scarecrow) who was flat as a board!"
Maxim simply smiled. "I was young and foolish and did not appreciate what a formidable, sensual, loving woman you were or would become as the years went by," he smiled, ginning back at her, then kissing her offered lips.
"Kakaya nagruzka der'ma!" (What a load of shit!), Natalya purred, enjoying the feel of her bear of a husband behind her. "When do we leave, Maxim?" she said, cutting to the chase.
Maxim started for a second at being so transparent. "What do you mean?" he asked innocently.
"Your youngest answered a call from Colonel Bainbridge who gave you 18 days to get to Starbase 900, and that little Feliks would love his new home in the Delta Quadrant. So I guess this means you declined the invitation to attend the War College!"
Maxim made a face. "The colonel likes our children, my love...."
"He does not like them enough to leave us here on Earth! The Klingon Homeworld was a hard assignment for you; you deserve some downtime in a staff job somewhere, or in school!" Natalya objected, watching her other children play ice tag.
Maxim turned Natalya to face him. "Can you see me in school?" Maxim smiled. "I am not an academic, I am a Marine, and Marines go where they are told to go. The colonel was very generous to include you and the little ones...."
"We just got back from Qu'O'nos!" Natalya finally exploded, shaking free of Maxim's grip. "I just finished unpacking our things and now we have to go to the Delta Quadrant!"
=^=Marine Command to Kamarov,=^= the voice of Sgt Major Hanley Woodard interrupted the argument. "As soon as your missus is done rippin' yer balls off, sir, we are expected at the afternoon soiree the colonel is giving,"
Bog na nebesah, pozhalujsta ubejte men'a teper'! (God in heaven, please kill me now!) Maxim thought to himself. "Ready for beam-out, sergeant-major!" he replied kissing his wife's cheek. "Keep supper warm, dear," he smiled as he vanished in a transporter beam.
MARINE DETACHMENT COMMANDER'S OFFICE
SAN FRANCISCO, EARTH.
Maxim quickly shed his cold-weather gear and hustled to meet his boss, Colonel Devlin Bainbridge. Sgt Major Woodard quickly fell into step beside Kamarov. "How did she take it?" he asked bluntly.
"I may become a eunuch during transit!" Kamarov replied grimly as the walked into Colonel Bainbridge's outer offices. "She was not pleased."
"You blame her, sir? You folks just got back from Klingon Central and with no downtime, you get thrust back into the shit again, this time in the Delta Quadrant with Task Force 38!"
Kamarov nodded. "The Delta Exploration Initiative. A new CO was just named, yes?"
Woodard nodded. "Indeed, sir. Admiral Ricky Wegener, Starfleet sonofagun all the way..."
Kamarov turned to face his senior NCO and friend. "Hanley, I know how you feel about Starfleet in general. During this deployment, you will not use any derogatory or offensive language as Starfleet descriptors. They may well be as useless as tits on a Horta, but out there in the Delta Quadrant, we all have to rely on each other. Am I clear, sergeant-major?"
"Yessir, thy will be done!" Woodard replied with a scowl. He was old-school Starfleet Marines and had trouble relating to other Starfleet branches. In his parlance, you were either a Marine or a maggot.
An older officer cleared his throat.
"Ten-h.."
"As you were, gentlemen," said Colonel Devlin Bainbridge, a big smile on his face. "Max, I'm glad you took my offer. How did Natalya take it?"
Kamarov grimaced. "Jury is till out on that, sir,"
Bainbridge glanced at Woodard. "He's up shit creek, ain't he?"
"No paddle, colonel." The sergeant-major added.
The colonel grinned. "Come on, there's a cocktail party full of brass that want to talk with you, Max. You too, Woodard!"
"Let's go!" Max said cheerfully.
COCKTAIL PARTY
Max Kamarov smiled through a clenched jaw, wishing for the thousandth time he was back at home calming his wife down. His untasted vodka sat next to him on an end table. Maxim was a Russian man that loved his vodka, but did not imbibe in the presence of officers that outranked him. "Sergeant-Major..."
"One glass of chilled OJ, comin up, major!" Woodard smiled, handing his boss the requested beverage.
Maxim watched the other officers at the party mingle, all the while wishing he was prepping for the trip to the Delta Quadrant. The transit time to the Safe Passage was ten days. Sgt Maj Woodard had confirmed his family's berth's aboard the USS Rickover, a sturdy Excelsior MK II-class ship fitted for transporting families to the Delta Quadrant.
"Got lucky again, Major Kamarov?" a smooth, almost snotty voice intruded on his thoughts. Max looked up from his orange juice and saw a short, pudgy, briar-headed Marine staring at him with small, beady eyes.
"Colonel Braun, I'm surprised you are here, sir," Maxim smiled, hiding his loathing of the porcine man."
"I'm sure you are, Kamarov. I have lodged a formal protest against your posting to Starbase 900. That region of space is unexplored and requires a more experienced officer in command of the only sizeable Marine force in the area."
Kamarov looked at Braun and smiled pleasantly. "Indeed, colonel. You seem to have a knack for running up the white flag, avoiding combat at all costs, and you have the lowest retention rate of any line officer I have ever seen! I don't think Starfleet needs to be defended by Marines led by an ass-kissing desk jockey afraid of his own weapon!"
"You're out of order, major...." Braun began
"No colonel, you are way out of order," interrupted Colonel Bainbridge, nudging Maxim out of the way. "I have the fullest confidence in the major's ability to lead the Marines aboard Starbase 900. If I had wanted a slack garrison force, you would be in command, Braun. Now get out of my face!"
The fat Marine left quickly. Maxim turned to Bainbridge, "How did that bastard ever get a commission?" he asked.
"His father was General Theodore Braun, one of our best during the 1st Cardassian War. The general won the Federation Medal Of Honor three times, once posthumously. There is at least one facility named for him aboard every Marine post." Bainbridge sipped his rum and coke. "Let's get to it, Max. I chose you and I'm sticking with it. The only thing I am concerned with is your family on the base. Starbase 900 is out there on the frontier, Maxim. There may be no time to evac them if something goes wrong."
"Colonel, the only way I can accept your offer is if I take Natalya and the children with me, just like I did to the Klingon Homeworld. Natya understand and hasn't unpacked the china yet!" Max smiled at his boss.
Bainbridge grinned. "Guess all I can say is vaya con dios, tovarisch!"
Maxim drained his glass and grinned. "If you will excuse me I have to catch a transport to the Merrimack.
USS MERRIMACK
FOURTEEN HOURS LATER.
In the living room, Maxim and Natalya were snuggling together on the couch, listening to Prokofiev's "Dance Of The Knights" from Romeo and Juliet. Maxim loved classical music and as a native Russian he was partial to the composers from his native land. Natalya enjoyed the lighter works of more baroque-ish composers, but Maxim would not be denied.
"Piotr and Feliks were picking on Irina today." Natalya said, quietly tracing her husband's jawline with her finger.
"Those little devils! Why can't they leave their sister alone?" Max growled.
"They miss their father, Maxim," Natalya smiled. "Now that we are on our way to a new base, I put them back on their schedules."
"Do we want a nanny?" Max asked.
"I do not plan on working at the base, so no, darling." All I ask is a suite of rooms big enough for our family."
"Already taken care of, dear. Our residence is confirmed by Sgt Major Woodard through a Command Master Chief Daniel Brooke." Maxim smiled.
"Good! Now then..." and there was no more need for words.
A personal log by:
Major Maxim Kamarov
MARDET CO
Starbase 900
